Snake and Bear
'The Base of Drakesreach Bluff ' ---- ::A predominantly flat region of elevated land atop a small cliff that roughly spans one thirteenth of the Drakesreach Sierra as a whole, Drakesreach Bluff is at once both an impressive sight and an equally notable landmark within the Wildlands as a whole. It is upon this bluff that the freehold of Crown's Refuge was first established in 625 ATA, and it is upon this very same bluff that that same city has flourished. ::Though mostly surrounded by dry auburn grasslands to the north and east, and the rushing waters of the Jadesnake to the west, the southern reaches of the base of Drakesreach Bluff hold some notable features, first and foremost of which is the smooth ramp that ascends towards the top of the bluff itself, leading to the only point around the base of the entire landmark by which one can enter the city above. ::That city is, of course, the freehold of Crown's Refuge. Viewable as nothing more than a palisade wall of stone that measures roughly ten foot in height atop the natural aegis of wall that is the cliff face, the suggestion of a multitude of buildings and homes are never the less there all the same. A magnificent and elegant tower of pale white stone and marble ascends above the height of the wall, however, presiding over the surrounding landscape as it spears towards the heavens. ::A set of vast wooden gates rest atop the natural ramp that leads up to the surface of the bluff, evidently the only ingress to and from the city above, while the thick reaches of the Verdigris Forest stretch endlessly towards the south, the edge of the forest directly adjacent to the southern edge of the bluff itself. ---- Just outside the Refuge, this early morning, the bulwark gives way to the low defensive plain and then farther - to the wood's edge of the verdegris, where massive shardwoods stand quiet in the relative calm. Relative, of course, being the operative word. Up by the woodline, an axe rests, sharp and well-kept, leaning against a shardwood limb. A pair of boots is nearby, discarded and out of harm's way, and several pieces of rough-cut timber are stacked neatly in a pile, stripped and ready. In the woods themselves, however, is a tremendous cracking, the splintering sound of wood being broken and rent - one of the smaller shardwoods shakes, stricken. Out from the city a figure slides. She does not appear to be paying a great deal of attention to where she is going. Hands are smoothing over the velvet of her sarong once, twice and then again. The expression on the fine featured face is best described as bemused. However, the sound of wood being violently broken does break through her reviere. At least partially. Her head tilts to the side and she makes her way over to the woodline. The young tree... falls, with the creak of timber and a crash of leaves and branches that echoes and bounces oddly off of the walls of the Refuge. Somewhere in the forest, a bird startles, an oddly mournful cry and the whirring of wings a counterpoint to the last rustling of settling leaves. As one approaches, one might hear the sound of a snuffling, a grunting and low growl - the crackling and clawing at bark as the tree rocks, rustling. Slower now. Keir is not so ignorent as to avoid caution all together. Her tail whips back and forth in agitation. Just once. Then it stills. She takes a moment to scan the trees and, as quietly as she can, shifts to the right. Perhaps the instinct to approach from the side and not directly is self preservation. Perhaps it is just politeness. A broken twig, the rustling of leaves - as Keiresa moves through the underbrush and finally gets a view of the base of the tree... the creature on the other side has already maneuvered to get a view of /her/. The tree has .. well.. been uprooted, for lack of a better word, knocked over and rolled out of its original place in the forest's edge. Standing with forepaws atop it is.. /it/. A massive bear, a thing twice the size of those common in the forest, eyes literally aflame as it waits, shining claws.. /steel/ claws, if one gets a closer look - sunk inches-deep in the fallen tree's bark. Its growl is a warning thing, bark splintering as it flexes a paw. Keiresa's eyes widen almost comically and she blinks rapidly in the wake of that. Quite understandably her forward motion ceases. Her tail's tip quivers slightly. A swallow. "Your tree," she says in clear agreement. "Absssolutely. Very nice job of killing it too..." Weight shifts backwards, but she doesn't risk the movement itself yet. It snorts, flaming eyes blinking - ".. well, aye." It ... speaks. It's growling, snarling, a voice one would expect from something that looked like /that/. "... yer nae much o' a wildlin'." Astute observation, really. Bark shatters as it picks up a paw, rearing up to its full height to peer - nearsightedly - down at the Syladri. Keiresa tilts her head, "I'm Keiresssa," she says matter of factly, body language relaxing. As he rears up, she mimics, though only to add a foot or so to her average height. She still looks up at him, head tilting in renewed curiousity. "... so y' say. Scoot back jus' a bit." The beast ambles to the roots of the tree, lowering its head and setting shoulder to it, with a grunt. Paws churn at the earth as it shoves, slowly working the thing out of its hole, and out into the clear space at the woods edge, grunting. "Rrrr. Yer a ways out o' .. urk... rrr. 'ere. Y' lost o' sommat?" Swish and Keiresa has backed off about two yards. "No. I know where I am. The city isss right there after all." She leans though, following his motion while her tail remains planted. "Why are you tearing down the tree?" With a low crash, he /finally/ gets the thing to bump and roll and settle a few feet away - something closer to the axe and the logs already there. The mankiller settles back, blowing hard for a moment, panting.. ".. 'eavy." It yawns, toothily - ".. 'cause it needs doin', an' sommat should? S' a silly question." Hard to tell the emotional state of a bear. It sets off, moving forward.. pausing to climb up on the tree and, grunting to itself, balancing down its length, carefully. ".. urf.." A near slip, there, a sound suspiciously like a chuckle. ".. y' want t' help?" "Some things need killing and tearing," Keir agrees, an inch gained as she shifts. "But ussually it isss thingss that one eatsss. You don't eat treess, do you? No... your teeth are wrong for that." The mystery of why a bear would be tearing down treess seems to fascinate and subtly delight. She grins, "Certainly. Don't eat me." She starts forward. At the far end of the tree.. the bear pauses, squinting back at the Syladri - ".. Don' much like eatin' snakes. Ne'er did get th' hang o' 't." It hops down, then - with a heavy thud in the low grass. "... Keiressa." It comes out oddly in bear's jaws, but it seems satisfied, regardless, ambling iin the direction of the axe. "Now, if y' were a deer? W' might hae t' talk." "Too ssslippery," Keiressa agrees with a grin. She falls into pace behind him. She looks from the axe, to the bear and her brows raise. The brute's form blurs - it's an eye-wrenching thing, vertigo inspiring and strange, but done in an instant, leaving behind little more than a vaguely threadbare young man, cloak stained with mud and hair loose and wild, feet bare on the grass. He reaches down, scooping up the axe and raising it to his shoulder, "b'sides - " A much more acceptable tenor, really - "m' nae much fer eatin' people, 's a rule. So aye, yer safe enough." A steel kukri gets thrust through his belt as he turns to grin back at the Syladri. Keiresa's eyes widen again. "Oohh... that'sss beautiful." Her tone isn't reverent. No, not quite. But clearly slightly awed and very honest in admiration. "Nah. N' really. Itches like a fiend." Kael runs a hand through his hair, padding up in the direction of the tree, whistling lightly.. and scrambling up to stand behind the main body of branches, eying the tree with a professionalism odd in one his age. "Now, if yer callin' /me/ beautiful, 's a whole 'nother story. Aye, m' right nice. No bones there, aye?" He's in a remarkably good mood, at least. "You? No," Keir's eyes glint in what may be recognized as humor, "The sss-hifting though?" She chuckles and falls to his right along the tree. She looks up it, leaning back to do so. "... well, are ye kind." The young man laughs, wryly. "'n 'ere I thought th' girls swooned fer m' charmin' wit 'n right perfect looks - 'n yer jus' sayin' 't were all about th' fur? M' dissapointed." He crouches to eye the branches, grinning wide and - yes, a bit foolishly. "Ah, well, m' Alainne woul' kill me fer sayin' 't regardless. then again, I shoul' take what y' say wi' salt, aye? S' nae like I hae a right shapely tail o' sommat. Well, most o' th' time, anyroad." "Fur is very nice," Keiresa points out, "Though? Your fur didn't look very ssoft. Perhaps you sshould have a bath? Or sssomeone brussh it for you?" This suggestion appears to be very serious. "Meh. It rains 'n me occasionally. S' good enough." He might mostly be kidding. Maybe. "B'sides, bathin' too much 's nae all that healthy fer ye." He nods, quite seriously. "Y' kin trust /that/. Leads t' all sorts o' embarrassin' things." Keiresa's hand has fallen to her side again, fingers against the velvet. "Like what?" She asks logically, meeting his gaze with that same curious tilt to her head. Kael grins over at her, and doesn't answer the question. Instead, he asks one of his own, expresion positively impish.. "Y' run a human out o' th' bathhouse yet?" "No," Keri shakes her head, "He wouldn't get out of the water." A blink, "Then again, he thought I wasss very odd, I think. It fitsss. I thought he wass odd." She smiles. "... next time, try givin' 'em th' biggest eyes y' can an' ask 'm about th' differences 'tween Syladri 'n human folk. Y' get t' see 'em turn innerestin' colours, if y' do it right." Kael turns to sit, the work forgotten, putting his back against a convenient tree branch, comfortable. "Most o' th' human-folk are odd, aye. Hae nae quite figured 'em out m'self, jus' yet. I keep hopin'." He rests the axe across his knees, looking at the Syladri curiously, still. "Yer brave, comin' out here without a weapon o' some sort." Keiresa's lips quirk upward in knowing humor at that. "Ssso far that hass not been the casse. But I'll try it. Ssounds like fun," her tail thrashes again, meeting Kael's gaze with singular attentiveness. "I don't have a weapon." That quirked smile grows, "That is neccesssity at besst. And since I did not need to leave the town? That makesss it...mmm... ignorence, I think?" The young man nods - "Well, yer safe here, anyroad. Y' prolly run faster 'n me - means whate'er 's goin' t' eat us wi' eat me first. Give y' plenty o' time t' make th' wall." He runs a hand through his hair, wincing at a tangle - and then worrying at it with fingers. "s' alright, though. I got m' a full pouch o' ignorance, 'n 't hae nae kilt me yet, s' best I kin tell." Curiously, he asks.. "What do y' do, then?" Keiresa chuckles and shifts again. Apparently being still does not suit her. "No. You kill trees. What could eat you? Are there really thingsss harder to kill out here? But? Yesss. I could go hide behind wallsss while you went all 'grrrry'." Her tone is slightly teasing, slightly sarcastic. The impression may be given that, should such a case arise, she thinks that her fleeing would be a distasteful situation. "I don't know yet. But I'll come up with ssssomething." "Oh, m' nae much o' a fighter, really. M' jus' stupid enough t' avoid endin' up wi' all th' things what make y' dead. Y' ken. Chargin' things headlong, wavin' swords around, that sort o' thing." Kael's grin remains impish. "S' good. Not knowin' gives y' lots o' chances t' figure sommat y' like, rather 'n gettin' stuck 'n sommat y' hate entire." Keiresa's gaze has fallen to Kael's lips. As he speaks her brow slowly gets more and more furrowed. "Nae. No. Ken. Know?" She smiles a little more, "Sssounds like music in your voice. It...isss just a little confusssing too." Kael nods, sagely. ".. s' alright. I hae that effect on folks. Most folks hae that 'ffect on me, so I figure we're even, aye?" That impish grin, it never fades. "I envy ye, y' ken." He pauses. "'t strikes me yer nae one I e'er seen afore. Thought I seen most o' ye, in passin'." "You do?" Keiresa seems surprised. She shifts forward slightly, intreguied, "Sssurely not the tail?" She darts back again, still smiling. "I jussst got here. Lasst night. Before that I was in the woods." A pause, "And cold." That last addition appears important to her. ".. then ye are one o' th' .. what'sitcalled.. th' foundlings, aye?" Kael tosses that word out there with pride. ".. s' a good name fer it." He examines a rough fingernail, blinking - "Oh. Aye." Thoughtful.. "Word o' advice, Keiresa - donnae be quick t' ferget what 't means t' hae everythin' in front o' ye - chase what y' love, not what sommat tells ye y' hae t' chase, one way o' another." "Yess," Keir says, "Sscratch found me." There is almost a note of pride in that. She regards him for a long moment and then shifts. She moves to circle him, slowly so as to allow her study of his form to be thorough. She doesn't close the distance, not even by a centimeter. Simply an orbit around him that will eventually bring her back to his face if not stopped. "Scratch? S' 'n odd name." He just watches her move, curiously - quite comfortable, leaning there on that branch, and apparently disinclined to move. "M' nae scary, am I?" He sniffs at an underarm, experimentally. "... mm. Y' were right 'bout needin' a bath, though." "You are not ssscary without your teeth," Keir agrees. Amber eyes focus on his, "But, I see no chains, Sometimes-Bear." She pauses, "No leasssh. No hobbling. You can run fasst, sstill. You can chasse still. Your eyess still look keen to determine what is worth chassing. You sssay you've forgotten?" She smiles, "It isss just one foot after another, Ssilly." He winks - turns that cheek and its tattoo her way, and taps at it with a finger. "Yer nae lookin' hard enough." Kael waves a hand. "s' nae important. Yer right, though - m' startin' t' figure out maybe I made m' own leash m'self - " There's a sudden... velvet venom there, a dark, quiet thing that seeps out in his speech, even as his eyes flicker with that odd fire - ".. but make y' no mistake, Mistress Keiresa - m' no man's dog." "Of course not," Keir responds, blinking, "You are a bear." A grin and a regretful sobering as acknowledgement for the mark, "I know. But the control of choice iss sstill yourss. Isssn't it?" Kael chuckles, softly. "M' startin' t' learn it may be. I thought 't were nae, but.. shows what I get fer thinkin'." He pauses. "m' nae a bear, really... 's jus' convenient sometimes. S' nae what I prefer.. but never y' mind.." wistfully, he goes on - ".. I envy y' folk out here. S' free n' wild - 't suits me. I hate th' thought o' goin' back." "Back Sssouth," Keir says promptly, "With D-Norren. Because people down sssouth would kill my kind on ssight. And....they were only here to fight a battle?" She dredges up bits of an apparent conversation and sees how they fit. ".. Norran." That venom's there for a moment, but quickly gone - ".. an' aye, th' would. Th' barely take one o' my sort, much less one o' yers. Folks 's afraid there, o' what th' donnae truly ken - e'en when those they are afraid of ken e'en less 'n they do." Kael frowns. "m' thinkin' th' battle were.. accidental. N' th' fools took sommat easier 'n fightin'.. nothin' 's worth havin', th' way they went about gettin' it." He lets that go, as well.. ".. but aye, mostly." "You don't...." Keiresa begins and then falls off. She chews her lip slightly, "The fight. What wass it for? Maybe..." Again she hushes. ".. th' fightin'? Ne'er understood what human-folks fight o'er. Somebody were wantin' power o' sommat - m' nae th' right one t' ask. I ken only what somebody were tryin' t' control sommat o' kill sommat... m' only anger in th' whole thing where what th' did to th' Lady." Kael sighs. "'s no consciencin' that." "What did they do to her?" Keir asks, eyes wide again. The young man taps his forehead. "'er horns. th' cut 'em off." It's sour. "On top o' lockin' 'er in th' Spire, n' bringin' strife.. th' hae t' go 'n do /that/? Why? What did 't do fer 'em? Senseless 'n stupid." Keiresa's brow furrows again, "What did it do to her?" She asks, once more getting to what seems to be the crux in her eyes, "Did it hurt?" "m' guessin'. Th' rain hurt what were left o' 'em, when I saw 'er - from what th' folks say, th' ones what did 't got what th' deserved." Kael sighs, leaning back to look up to the sky. ".. e'erytime I think I get close t' understandin' folks - I run 'cross sommat like that. jus' makes nae any sense t' me." "You are ssad? Or ssimply tired?" Keiresa settles down, tail curling around her. "Little o' both? Lose m'self 'n my head, sometimes." Kael chuckles, soft and warm. "m' sorry, Mistress Keiresa - s' jus' one o' those things. I think too much fer m' own good. Put 't this way - I hae nae killed a man yet, what I ken - but those? Those I would have - 'n woul' nae hae regretted 't, nae in th' slightest." Keiresa nods soberly and lays back. Her tail stretches out as if to recieve what light and sun she can get. "....Sometimes-Bear? Don't you want to move?" "I shoul' be gettin' work done - 'm bein' lazy." He grins at her. "Kael, by th' by. Kael Firelight, Alan's son - but Kael 's fine, if y' need a name o' that sort." "Run. Chassse." Keir smiles, "You ssaid you wanted to chasse what you love. Do you think there iss nothing you love out here to chasse? If you run and ssspar and dance. Can you not be chasssing your own freedom?" Her coils stir, as restless as a hyperactive puppy held on a lead. He laughs, warmly, at that... "... yer right, there - " He eyes the sky. "Been sittin' too long." He stands, carefully, giving the Syladri a wink.. balancing his way down the tree trunk, the air of one idly playing.. "S' that thinkin'. Makes m' ferget t' fly." Kael chuckles, softly - "what are ye doin', then, this evenin'?" It's just.. a curious question. An earnest one. "I don't know," Keiresa says, "I don't know what I'm doing in two minutesss." She grins at him. Her hand falls again to the sarong and the smile strengthens. The fabric continues to please her. "Y' promise me y' will nae wander off in th' wood alone?" The young man nods at the trees. "S' dangerous, 'n its own way." Keiresa goes still for a moment and then turns to look at the trees. Her lips form a pout but she doesn't argue. Not yet anyway. She glances back to him. "Now, none o' that. Y' got friends - take one o' them wi' ye." Kael's quite serious. "Y' hurt sommat o' get stuck in th' cold, 'n ye kin get hurt, 'n I like ye. No gettin' hurt, nae t'night." Keiresa sighs, quite pitiful, "Oh, alright..." Her tail lashes again and the pout remains for a moment. Then, as sudden as if she's bee-stung, she's straightening, eyes widen in excitement. "Ssswimming. Where can I go ssswimming? Do you know?" "Aye. Ye see th' city there?" Kael, balancing on one foot, with a grin, waves a hand at the Refuge. "If y' go /straight/ across 't, from here, inside th' wall, then .. that way.." He points vaguely west - ".. s' a lake. Right good swimmin'." "Do you ssswim?" Keiresa asks, darting back about seven feet. "I dog-paddle." Kael grins, at that - a private joke. "Tell y' what, Miss - wi' see ye up there. Yer right, 'bout one thing fer certain. I need t' run a bit." Keiresa makes shooing gestures, "Run Kael. Run." She laughs and takes her own advice. She's twisting and off like a shot. Apparently she's obeying his request, for her path is more towards the city. He.. laughs, a wild sound, those eyes igniting in red flame as he takes two steps, seemingly chasing her - but as he leaps off of the tree, his laughter changes with his form, that same strange eye-bending moment leaving behind a raven, a bird of the sky, his laughter becoming the raucus, triumphant caw. Wings beating strongly, the bird flies up and past the Syladri, tipping a wing in something akin to acknowledgement, before flying /up/, heading into the dark skies of advancing evening. Keiresa is moving as fast as she can, already on the verge of laughing when his laughter coaxes it forth from her as well. The shift of that sound to a caw does gain her attention and her head turns just in time to catch him flying up and past. Her eyes remain glued, the same sharply awed expression on her face. She raises her hands in the air after him and laughs anew. She'll likely be down to a chuckle by the time she reaches the walls, true enough. But her grin likely hasn't left her face or her eyes, even by then. ---- ''Return to Season 5 (2007) Category:Logs